


Coming Home

by Becommissar_fanfic (orphan_account)



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4087009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Becommissar_fanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~Prompt: fluffy cuddly becommissar at the end of the day</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> hi there! just a little preface- this account belongs to the original author of these fics, and I'm helping her out by posting the fics from her tumblr (asdfghjkl-anxiety.tumblr.com) over here to AO3. so all comments and kudos and such will go directly to her and so on. Yep. anyway enjoy her awesome fics!

Kommissar is organized as ever, walking into the apartment and setting down her bag on the little table next to the door, hanging her coat neatly on the coat rack. She is dressed in her usual attire for work which is a white blouse and black slacks, her hair down and brushed nicely. She prefers to wear little makeup, although lipstick is the exception. Ruby red highlighting her full lips.

Those lips part in a content sigh as she kicks off her heels and leaves them in a clump by the coat rack. The apartment is furnished nicely. Lots of black. A black sofa, a low white coffee table, a simple TV, a wooden dinning table, black kitchen electronics including a stove, microwave, fridge, etc… There are not many actual decorations unless her girlfriend’s sheet music, instruments, or headphones count. Kommissar shakes her head at the multiple colored pairs of beats that sit around. Sheet music on the floor a sure sign of Beca getting angry again at lack of inspiration.

The blonde knew Beca had stayed home today to get caught up on some demos and write some more music. It was best for her to write while at home. Kommissar moved out of the living room/dinning room/kitchen and went through the hallway, first checking the study/computer room. Half of the room was filled with Kommissar’s books and a comfy chair, the other half was a mess with three computers, sound systems, and Beca’s other equipment she needed. When the blonde didn’t see her girlfriend in there she moved away, going past the bathroom toward their bedroom.

They had moved in together shortly after Kommissar arrived in Boston for work. Beca having dumped her boyfriend and both of them running into each other as Beca was late to the studio and Kommissar was starting her day off by looking for apartments. Beca had quickly told her sorry and before they had time to reconnect she ran off, leaving her phone behind. The next day Kommissar had taken Beca out where she returned the phone with her number in it. After discussing mundane things they decided to move in together, Beca finding her apartment lonely and Kommissar needing a place. They soon grew closer and began dating.

“Tiny maus?” Kommissar gently pushed open the door to their bedroom.

Beca was lying on the bed, face first in a pillow. Her brown hair was sprawled out, the sheets messy and unmade, the room covered in rolled up wads of paper that missed the overflowing trash can by miles. Kommissar smiled to herself at the sight of her girlfriend. Silently, she moved beside the bed before jumping on, startling Beca. The smaller girl shrieked and began flailing futilely. The blonde laughed, grabbing Becas hands and taking them in her own.

“Come tiny maus,” Kommissar told her as she rolled Beca onto her back. “You can wallow in self pity later.”

“I have no inspiration.” Beca groaned, tugging at Kommissar until she eventually came to rest beside Beca, holding the brunette in her arms and stroking her hair.

Kommissar chuckled and the sound reverberated throughout Beca’s body, sending her warm feelings. She smiled unconsciously, the mere thought of her girlfriend making her happy. “Sorry tiny maus but right now we need to get dinner ready. Or maybe I do even though it was your turn tonight?” Kommissar looked down at Beca, a smug smirk and an eyebrow raised.

Beca giggled and burried her face into Kommissar’s neck. “Noooooo.” She protested. “I completely remembered dinner. It’ll just be like… two days.” She said, knowing that they switched every other night with cooking.

Kommissar sighed and sat up, taking Beca with her into a standing position. She carried her bridal style into the kitchen and set Beca down on the counter island. “It is fine I can make dinner tonight.” “Its already six. Why can’t we just order out?”

“Because its not Friday.” Kommissar said simply.

“We don’t always have to do take out on Friday only.” Beca hopped off of the counter, coming to stand behind her girlfriend. Small arms wrapped around Kommissar’s waist as she began making… what looked to be a cake?

“Umm… Is a cake really any better than take out?” Beca asked, resting her head on Kommissar’s shoulder.

“No, but I figured you would like something special for dinner, ja? Just to cheer you up.”

Beca placed a kiss to her girlfriends cheek, well more like the space beside her ear. It was a strain to do things like this but a lot easier when Kommissar wasn’t wearing heels as opposed to mornings. “You're the best.”

“I know.” Kommissar replied matter of factly. She smiled before turning around and giving Beca a real kiss, her arms wrapping around Becas neck. “But you're better.” Kommissar told her as they drew apart.

Beca shook her head. “No. You're the most beautiful creature on Earth, crafted by the angels, and sent down here to cure cancer with your superior skill set.”

Kommissar just laughed and kissed Beca again. This one was far too sloppy to be considered a real kiss. Their mouths were both too busy smiling so they bumped into each other rather awkwardly and clumsily. Beca draw back a laughed a little as Kommissar placed a kiss on her nose.

“I love you, my tiny maus.” Kommissar genuinely smiled before turned around and finished up the cake, putting it in the oven.

Beca clicked on the speakers to one of their favorite songs to dance to. Lay Me Down by Sam Smith blasted through the speakers. Kommissar turned back around at Beca and grinned. She took Beca’s hand and placed hers at Beca’s hip. Beca’s other hand coming to rest on Kommissar’s shoulder as the blonde lead them around the kitchen. Giggles and laughter filled the air as they sang far too loudly to be considered good when the chorus came on.

“Can I lay by your side?” Beca sang to her girlfriend.

“Next to you,” Kommissar followed her.

“You,” They sang together.

“And make sure you're alright.” Kommissar followed up.

“I’ll take care of you. I don’t want to be here if I can’t be with you-” Beca sang.

“Tonight.” They closed out the chorus together, in perfect harmony.

This went on until the cake was done, Kommissar reaching to the high cabinets for the frosting and Beca taking the cake out. It was chocolate. Kommissar had black frosting to top it with and Beca had blue. It started out them dividing the cake in half and then frosting it for the other person. Soon Beca went into Kommissar’s territory, claiming that the side wasn’t big enough for her “artistic” vision. This resulted in Kommissar smearing black frosting right through Beca’s picture which looked supposedly like a bunch of music notes.

Beca retaliated by putting frosting on her girlfriends nose. Then she ran to the other side of the counter, laughing half in delight, half in fear. Kommissar didn’t even wipe off the cake cutting two slices neatly and putting them on separate plates. She approached Beca calmly and reached to hand out the cake. The brunette looked at the cake, looked at the frosting on Kommissar’s nose, then back at the cake. She shrugged and reached for it. As her hands were within inches Kommissar reared back and slapped the cake onto Beca’s face, laughing.

“Tiny maus, don’t you know to never go for the cheese?” Kommissar asked smugly as she ate her own cake in front of her girlfriend. Beca too stunned to do anything other than just open and close her mouth.

After Kommissar finished Beca was able to finally take the plate from her face, grabbing a washcloth and taking off almost all of the frosting, glaring and pouting at Kommissar as the blonde watched from the side. Kommissar grinned and leaned down, liking the side of Beca’s cheek to get off the tiny spot of leftover frosting.

“You missed some.” Kommissar grinned.

Beca rolled her eyes and grumpily stormed over to the couch, plopping down and turning on the TV. Ignoring her girlfriend.

Kommissar sighed and walked over to stand behind Beca. She had turned on a movie which appeared to be Disney’s Lion King. Kommissar smiled at her girlfriend’s soft spot for those movies. Upon hearing that Beca had developed a thing for movies, courtesy of her ex boyfriend, Kommissar had asked about the American Disney. The realization that neither of them had seen any of them led to a marathon of Disney movies, Beca favoring Lion King and Kommissar enjoying the Little Mermaid.

Kommissar rolled over the back of the couch and plopped down behind Beca. Her arm immediately came to wrap around Beca’s and the other her propped herself up on, elbow bent and head resting on her hand. Beca, unable to stay mad even if she really had been, snuggled into Kommissar’s front, enjoying how perfectly they fit together.

They were content to stay that way until a quarter till ten. Kommissar took the initiative to turn off the TV and helped her tired girlfriend to the bathroom to freshen up before bed. Basically all of Beca’s weight rested on Kommissar as the German dragged her to the bedroom, helping the tiny girl into the bed before turning off the lights and crawling in beside her girlfriend. This was where Beca became insanely clingy and wrapped around Kommissar, almost protectively. The blonde let her girlfriend's arms surround her and she burried her head into the brunette’s chest, content filling her as she fell into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
